


Mr. Bubble

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-14
Updated: 2003-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-01 09:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guests should always ask first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Bubble

## Mr. Bubble

by EscapeToCity

[]()

* * *

**MR. BUBBLE**  
By: EscapeToCity 

Spoilers: all eps. through 'Prodigal'  
Rating: R  
Note: A happy one for Valentine's Day... None of these characters belong to me. They are part of the AOL Time Warner Universe. Mr. Bubble isn't mine either; he's just staying for the weekend. 

Best regards, 

J.B.  
@ New Orleans 

I still can't believe he's here. Actually here, in our house. Our house! 

I'm watching him and it's cold outside but he's glowing like those eggs in my Mom's Smithsonian book and it looks beautiful and I gotta stop thinking like this. 

He used up all my toothpaste. 

I caught him last night in my bathroom, in my bedroom, standing on my carpet and he was whistling and squeezing all my toothpaste onto one of my brushes... 

"Lionel didn't even leave me a toothbrush." 

His Dad sucks; I mean not in the way my Dad can suck-like when he makes me stay in and not go to parties or when I have to get up at four to hit the fields and I really don't want to but I do because I don't want to let him down. 

He's squeezing the toothpaste onto my brush and he's smiling at me and I want to stop him-not from smiling-but from using up all my toothpaste. I like the way it tastes and it has cool sparkly things in it. Sometimes I eat it. I think my Mom knows about that. 

Yesterday-- 

"How long is he staying?" 

Pete asks the question while I am trying to study for this Geometry test. I have missed class about fifty times and I am afraid I will fail. Always off saving somebody, always off, never really focused. 

"He's staying as long as he needs to." 

"That could be a long time, Clark. His family is screwed." 

"All families have problems, Pete." 

His Dad is screwed, yes. I don't even want to think about his brother. Bastard. Pretty Boy. Wanna-be Card Shark. 

"Clark?" 

Lex attacks each tooth with precision. Same time and attention to every surface of enamel. No wonder his teeth are so pretty. 

"You alright, Clark? You look sort of spaced out?" 

Even muffled, he is always focused. Even now, brushing his teeth and winking at the mirror and making these funny little noises as he swishes my sparkly snack about his mouth. 

I shouldn't be watching his mouth. I try to think about other mouths, softer mouths with easier histories and softer hearts. It doesn't work. Suddenly I want to brush my teeth too. I close my eyes. I hear the water running and find an excuse to go downstairs. I cough loudly to divert attention. I am hungry anyway and he used up my usual late-night snack. 

"Do you think he's mad...about...remember what I told you?" 

She looks at me like she always looks at me, like I am some kind of saint which obviously I am not. I told her everything about what happened both times with the red meteor rock...about the back of the Ferrari, all groping and sweaty and abruptly halted when I knocked a certain newcomer unconscious....no permanent damage, I hope... 

My Mom notices I'm fidgeting. I always fidget. Family trait. 

"You didn't mean to, Clark...you weren't yourself..." 

I notice she's looking down at her tea, gently fingering a grape that rolled out of the bowl. 

"I was myself...part of myself, I mean..." 

She just looks at me and maybe she's a little frightened. Or maybe it's a look of understanding, of relation. 

"We all slip up, Clark." 

What does that mean? If it involves crazy megalomaniacs with long, greasy hair and, wow, I mean...NO! Can't be, no...my Dad...fuck...he'll really try to kill him this time- 

"Clark? You alright? I lost you there for a sec-" 

"Fine, Mom." 

Mom and Lionel sliding on plush leather....yuck! \--I don't like to think that way. It makes me feel bad. I shouldn't think things like that about my Mom. She's put up with a lot of crap from me. They canceled her FirstMetropolis Gold Visa after my first escapade. Tesmacher's, too. She won't even show her face at Circuit City. I'm the real reason she has to keep working for Lionel. Some of the stores took the junk back no questions asked, some laughed in her face...I'm the real reason she has to keep working for Lionel. 

I try to stick with our talk... 

"My 'slipping up'...it could have...hurt people...Pete and Chloe could have been killed..." 

"But you saved them, honey." 

"Only because the rock fell out of my jacket....imagine...well...just imagine what might have happened?" 

I can tell she doesn't like to think of my evil other self. Myself? She gets up to fill her cup with more water. 

"Let's not worry about what might have happened. What good will that do?" 

She's right but I can't help but think about it all the time. I could have slept with Chloe and then easily killed both my best friends or seriously injured them. I'm afraid. I hear the oven door opening. I feel myself tremble. I feel her hands on my shoulders but the tension doesn't ease. I'm still hungry. 

"How's Lex faring? Did you show him where everything is?" 

I hear her getting a platter from the shelf. 

"He's doing alright, considering..." 

"Lex is used to palaces and platinum faucets, Clark. Give him some time." 

I catch the scent of cookies and feel a little better. Peanut Butter. 

Later, my Mom goes into the living room to catch up on some book. Jane Smiley or somebody. I wish I read good stuff like that. I need to read more. He has read probably a thousand books. Information just pours out of him, and not all business and corporate junk....real information....experience and philosophy and I wish I were smart. 

I'm fast and all that but I am not very bright, I fear. I wonder sometimes how many grades I was really held back? 

I must've drifted off or something because when I wake up my Dad has come and gone from town, taking my mother with him for a night at the Moondog Diner...it's one of their favorite places. The penultimate greasy spoon. Great hot dogs and fried eggs. They used to take me there on Fridays and I would eat these huge hot fudge sundaes. I remember how happy and simple everything was then. 

I looked around the house. It seemed quiet and suddenly I felt very lonely. I heard water running somewhere and then remembered who was upstairs. 

I crept up the stairs. For some reason, I didn't want to make any noise. 

I heard splashing and laughing. Like a little kid's laugh, playful and free...and I wondered just what meteor psycho had broken in the house this time. I wasn't really up for a fight tonight. 

The giggling stopped and all I heard was the simple sound of water dripping into water, a patter of sound like rain... 

I didn't even remember opening the door to my room, much less the bathroom. My bathroom has this cool copper tub; it was a favorite of my grandmother's, or so they tell me. I never got to meet her. 

"Clark!" 

He's wet and there's an amused, kinda shocked look on his face and there are candles I have never seen before and he's smiling and I want to as well but then I see it. On the floor. 

It is turned on its side with the cap off and I x-ray it quickly...I scream out.... 

"You used all my Mr. Bubble!!!!!" 

I think I screamed too loud because he looks scared and he kind of retreats back in the tub and looks small. Damn. 

"I-I....I'm sorry...I didn't think...." 

Damn right you didn't think, I think. You used all my Mr. Bubble! 

"It's alright, Lex. I mean, Mom can get some more this weekend at the store. It's no big deal." 

I feel terrible for yelling at him and I want to apologize and I turn my back and am about to turn around and shake his hand when I get the feeling water is pouring down my back. 

Because it is. He's standing. There. Behind me. I feel his breath. 

"We could always share, Clark." 

I'm still not sure if he said it...I wanted him to say it, fuck he just said it, oh wow...I feel like fainting or throwing up or shouting to the world...I want a cookie, I want to kiss Lex and I need to ask my Dad about sex some more (and somehow I don't think he'll be too thrilled) and whoa...there are way too many suds in the tub... 

"Did you hear me, Clark?" 

I wasn't sure if I heard anything other than the sound of new, shiny, tasty, slimy, wonderful bubbles as he turned up the water. 

**END**


End file.
